


Shut Up and Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

by dauntperplexity



Series: Vegas!Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dauntperplexity/pseuds/dauntperplexity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas wake up married in Vegas. Blame the alcohol. Dean wants to forget about it (dude, it’s Vegas. So not legal!) but Castiel takes duty and responsibility seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up and Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

He was thirsty. Not just a regular thirst, but the kind of thirst that happened when he was dehydrated from drinking way too much the night before and falling asleep without drinking some water. He must have been really drunk if he couldn’t remember to drink a glass of water.

Actually, he couldn’t remember much. He remembered sitting at a poker table. Then leaving to get a drink at the bar. Then following someone to a regular bar without a casino. Then nothing.

He ran his hand through his hair and groaned at all of the aching in his muscles. He knew that he didn’t get into a fight last night because these were dehydrated aching muscles and not bruised aching muscles. Muscles that were completely naked besides the sheet that he had over him. 

He wanted to know what the hell happened last night.

He hadn’t been this hung over since he challenged Caleb to go shot for shot when he was seventeen. He learned his lesson after that. 

He peeled his eyes open and shut them much more quickly. It was way too damn bright in the room.

He tried to roll over, but felt a body so he rolled the other way. He fell out of bed then headed to the shower. He should’ve been more concerned with another person in his bed, but he knew that it was probably just another one night stand, and the person would be gone by the time he got out of the shower.

He turned the water on as hot as he could without burning himself and let the bathroom fill up with steam. He stepped into the spray and stood under it hoping that it would get him clean.

He shampooed his hair feeling like the alcohol could’ve been soaked into his hair. It might as well have been if he drank so much that he couldn’t remember his night.

He ran his hand down his face, and his hand felt different. Not so much different as wrong. He wiped the suds out of his eyes to find the source of it. “Dude, what the hell?” He looked at his left hand and saw a band around his ring finger. His eyes widened. “No. No, no, no. Please tell me that I didn’t marry a stripper. Or some random person off the streets.”

He ran back into the room, naked and wet, and saw that whatever body was in bed with him when he woke up wasn’t there anymore. Any other day, any other one night stand, he would’ve been okay with the girl ditching when she woke up, but if he was married to her, then he was going to need her to sort their marriage out.

He tried to pull off the ring, not wanting a constant reminder on him of a big mistake he made. He tried for five minutes before he gave up. The ring didn’t want to come off.

The day just kept getting better as time ticked on. And he’d only been awake for forty minutes.

He needed to get himself together before he could sort through the problem. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it on an empty stomach. Food first, annulment later. 

Dean went back into the bathroom, dried up, and got dressed. He then went to grab his keys to look for food. He walked to a diner across the street from the motel, sat at the nearest open seat at the counter, and ordered a big breakfast. He was wary when he saw a cute woman taking his order. He didn’t catch a glimpse of who was in bed with him earlier, so he could’ve been married to anyone. 

But she walked up, smiled, served him coffee, and took his order. All the while, flirting with him. Any other day, when he was single, he would easily flirt back. But he was hungry. And he was married to someone he had no way of finding. He had too much on his mind to even just flirt back. So he sat in silence, eating.

He cleaned off his plate and decided that it was time to face the music, which sounded like wedding bells. He grabbed the check and walked to the cashier. It was the same woman who was unsuccessfully trying to flirt with him. 

He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, and something fell out with it. He picked it up and saw that it was a folded picture. When he saw what it was of, he fumbled his wallet for a second, gripping the nearest surface so tightly he thought it was going to snap under his grip. “Are you all right?” the waitress behind the counter asked.

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah. Fine.” He took out a twenty, gave it to the woman, and told her to keep the change.

He replaced the wallet and the picture and ran out back to his room as quickly as he could. How he did it without running over anyone or getting run over in the process, he didn’t know. He shut the door, locked it, and glared at the ceiling. “Cas!” he yelled.

Enochian sigils or not, if Castiel was close enough, he would hear Dean yelling.

Castiel appeared a blink later and Dean stalked over to him. “Hands,” he growled.

“What?” Castiel asked, stepping back and finding that a table stopped him from backing further away from Dean.

“I need to see your left hand.”

“Why?”

Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out the picture. It was of him with Castiel, standing at the head of a chapel, with matching rings. He held it out to Castiel. Castiel shook his head and held his left hand out to Dean. He grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled it to him, like it was just an object that wasn’t attached to a person. “Holy—we’re… we’re… married.”

Dean swayed where he stood and Castiel’s arms shot out to steady him. He led Dean to his bed and sat him down. He took a few steps back, putting distance between the two of them. “Yeah,” Castiel replied, soft and shy.

“How could you let me… us get married?”

“You were adamant about it.”

“What?” He couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of Castiel’s mouth. There was no way that he was adamant about getting hitched to an angel. A guy angel.

“I tried to talk you out of it, Dean, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and knelt down in front of Dean. He put two fingers to Dean’s head and Dean felt the familiar pull of time travel. But this time it was different. It was like he was watching a movie starting him and Castiel. He couldn’t interact with his past self. He could only watch.

_Castiel sat Dean down on a chair in the chapel and pulled Dean’s arm off of his shoulders. Castiel sighed, exasperated and looking for a way out of the chapel before they did something that Dean would regret. “I love you, Cas. We need to get married. Because that’s what people do when they’re in love. They get married.”_

_“Dean, you’re inebriated. You aren’t thinking straight.”_

_“I’m not straight,” Dean said. “I can’t be if I want to get married to you. You’re a guy.”_

_“Dean. You’ve never said anything like this when you’re sober. You don’t want to do this. You don’t love me.”_

_Dean brought his hands up to Castiel’s face and made the angel look into his eyes. For a moment, Castiel saw sincerity and sobriety. But the moment disappeared as quickly as it came and Dean’s eyes became glazed over again. “I do, Cas. Because I love you. I really love you. And I know you love me too. So, why not?”_

_Castiel gently took Dean’s hands in his and held them on Dean’s lap. “If you really want this, why don’t we wait until you are sober?” He kept his eyes on their hands, unable to look Dean in the eye._

_Dean pulled his hands out of Castiel’s grip and put a hand under Castiel’s chin to pull his gaze up. “Can’t wait, Cas. We’re in Vegas. So, come on. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go on our honeymoon.” Dean winked and used Castiel’s shoulders as a brace to get him standing._

Dean slapped Castiel’s hand off of his forehead. “Honeymoon?” Dean choked out. “Honeymoon!” he repeated, louder. “Did we?” Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but Dean put up a hand to stop him. “No, don’t tell me.”

“Dean, please listen—”

“Just… did you, or did I… no, nevermind.”

“Dean, just—”

“Were you the one who was in bed with me when I woke up?” He tried not to think about the soft body and the warm skin he felt when he rolled over earlier that morning. And he was naked. Castiel stood up and faced the other way, silently saying that he was the one sleeping next to Dean. “Were you… no, you had your clothes on.” He needed to say it as a statement and not a question to convince himself that he wasn’t in bed with a naked angel.

“Dean, you need to calm down.”

“I am calm,” he growled.

“No, you aren’t.”

“I know I’m not, Cas.” He stood up and stomped to the frightened angel in front of him. He grabbed Castiel by the wrist and dragged him to the front door. “We’re going to the chapel, now.”

“You aren’t driving in this state,” Castiel said, trying to fight out of Dean’s grip. He needed to hold his ground.

“I’ll be fine, because I have an angel riding shotgun. You need to give me directions because I have no clue where we were last night.”

Castiel tried to pry his hand from Dean’s. “I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” Dean replied. “But this way I know that you can’t fly away.”

Castiel sighed and allowed himself to be pulled to the Impala. He even let Dean open his door and sit him in the passenger seat.

Dean got into the Impala and started it quickly. He wanted to clean up his drunk mess as fast and painlessly as possible.

The car ride was awkward. No music played, making the ride seem a lot longer than it needed to be. Castiel only spoke to give directions and get Dean to his destination. 

Dean looked over at his passenger from time to time. Castiel’s demeanor was always the same. Calm, but with a hint of sadness. There were moments when Castiel looked completely distracted.

Dean looked down at Castiel’s lap and saw him fiddling with something in his hand. It took him a second to realize what it was. “Why are you still wearing that ring?”

“I’ve tried… been trying to pull it off. But it won’t budge.”

“What?”

“I’ve even used whatever _mojo_ that I could spare, but it won’t move.”

Dean wanted to say something witty or snippy or ironic or all of the above, but he couldn’t think of anything. He settled for, “Weird.”

“It turns, and spins, but I can’t remove it from my finger.” Dean didn’t say anything back. Castiel thought that it meant that Dean didn’t want to talk about it anymore. The reflection of something caught his eye. He looked at Dean’s left hand on the steering wheel and saw the matching ring on his finger. “Why are you still wearing yours?”

Dean looked at the ring on his hand. “It won’t come off. I gave up trying to pull it off after five minutes. Was thinking that it would be better for these people who gave it to us to deal with it instead of dislocating my finger.” The conversation died soon after that.

Dean thought that the only conversation that would pass between them would be directions.

That was until Castiel broke the silence. “So, you don’t love me,” Castiel whispered.

“What?” Dean asked.

“You don’t love me,” Castiel repeated, louder and a little stronger.

“Cas, I was drunk. I probably said a lot of things that I didn’t mean. And we’re in Vegas. You can’t hold a lot of the stuff I did yesterday against me.”

“This is why I tried to stop you, Dean. I didn’t want you doing something that you would regret. I kept trying to tell you this isn’t what you wanted, but you fought me every step of the way. I didn’t want you to have to worry about it the next morning.”

“Cas… I…” Dean bit his lip, not really knowing what to say. What could he possibly say? He feels like he just broke an angel’s heart.

“What would be wrong if we stayed married, Dean?”

“You’re a guy, Cas. Doesn’t that go against—”

“No,” Castiel said quickly, stopping Dean’s assumptions in its tracks. His eyes fell to his own lap. Castiel let out a long and pained sigh. “I should—”

His hand shot out and grabbed Castiel’s wrist. “No, you aren’t leaving.” He knew that Castiel’s fight or flight response was leaning heavily toward flight. “We need to get this sorted out.”

“Dean, we’ll get this marriage annulled. Like you want.”

“Good,” he replied. But why didn’t he feel good about the decision he was making? “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Right?”

Castiel nodded, unable to trust his voice that would easily betray his action.

The rest of the drive to the chapel was done in complete silence except for directions that Castiel gave.

They finally reached their destination twenty minutes later. As soon as the car was put in park, Castiel opened his door and stepped out. He leaned against the door and waited for Dean get out. Dean went straight toward the entrance of the chapel, while Castiel lagged back. Dean spun around when he didn’t hear footsteps following him and saw Castiel still leaning against the car.

Castiel stood, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped. “Dean, I love you.”

Dean should’ve been more surprised by the admission, but something deep inside him saw it. “I know you do, Cas.”

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and rested them at his sides. “I would protect you from all harm, watch over you when you’re sick. I love you even with all of your faults, but I love you especially because of your strengths.”

Dean shook his head. He wanted the words to stop. Because with each word that Castiel said, the more he was making sense. “Cas, you are not reciting wedding vows to me.”

“I vowed them to you last night. I believed in these vows from the moment I met you. I will believe in these vows in good and bad times. I… I’ll treasure you all the days of your life.”

“You really believe you could do that?”

“I do,” he whispered, almost sounding embarrassed. “With all of my heart.”

Dean wanted to say something, but he found he couldn’t with his throat tightening up. He coughed a few times, trying to loosen it. “Cas,” he whispered. “This can’t work. You know that it wouldn’t be able to work.” As strong as adamant as he wanted to sound, he came off sounding weak and unconvinced of the words that left his lips.

“Because you don’t want it to. I know.”

“No,” Dean said quickly. “Because you…” And then it felt like he was hit by a truck. The realization hit him full force, and he wasn’t sure that he would ever recover from the whiplash. “You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you, Cas?”

“I try.”

“No. You don’t try. You do. You pulled me out of Hell. You’ve seen me at my worst. My absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’ve even died for me. Multiple times. You’ve put up with all of my crap. You look at me like I’m something special.”

“You are.”

“You’ve done that even before we were married,” Dean continued as if Castiel said nothing at all.

“And I’ll continue—”

“Yeah, I got it,” Dean interrupted. He couldn’t let Castiel get a word in, because if he did, then it would stop the words that he wanted to say from coming out. And the words needed to be said. “We always have each other’s backs don’t we, Cas?”

“Yes.”

Dean looked up to the sky and groaned. He threw his arms up, admitting defeat, then ran his hands through his hair. “Well, this sucks.”

“What does?”

“How everything just falls into place.”

“What?”

“I’m saying…” Dean took in a deep breath and let it out. Then he took a leap. “I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you. Those vows you just said. My vows too. I had to have said them at some point last night.”

“You did. Or at least you tried to.”

Dean let out a short laugh. He easily imagined himself trying to repeat vows to Elvis or Cupid while he was drunk off his ass. “Well, they’re true. Sickness and health. Good, like being raised from the dead. Bad, like the Apocalypse. Faults and strengths. All that crap. I love you.” Dean took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I do.”

Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes widened so much that he thought they were going to fall out of his skull. He then heard the familiar sound of a beat of wings. Dean jumped forward bracing Castiel by his upper arms. “Do not even think about leaving me at the altar.”

Castiel tilted his head and his eyes scanned the area they were standing at. “What altar?”

“Metaphor, Cas. You aren’t leaving me.”

“I am not capable of doing that.”

“Ever,” Dean punctuated the word. Dean let go of Castiel’s arms when he could no longer hear the sound of his wings and knew that the angel was sticking with him. “And you may kiss the groom,” he mumbled to himself.

“What was that, Dean?” Castiel asked. 

Dean took two steps forward to stand in front of Castiel, less than a foot separating the two of them. He grabbed the lapels of Castiel’s trenchcoat and pulled the angel to him. He crashed their lips together, desperate and curious. The kiss was tentative at first, but deepened as Castiel reacted. 

He separated for a second for air before he brought them back together. He brought a hand up to cradle Castiel’s face. This kiss, this time, more intimate. Like the kiss made sense. Like they made sense.

He pushed himself away from Castiel and took a step back, his chest heaving with every deep breath he took.

He stared Castiel who was in the same state as he was, but he looked a lot more flustered. Castiel brought a shaky hand to his lips, incredulous of what had just happened. “What was that for?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t remember kissing the groom,” Dean said, when his heart rate and breathing went and slowed down.

“But—”

Dean put a hand up to stop him from saying anything. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

“So you keep saying.”

Dean grabbed Castiel’s left hand and his thumb rubbed the band on his ring finger. He spun the ring a couple of times. “Except this.” He placed a soft kiss on Castiel’s lips. “We can make this work, right?” 

“If you want it to.”

“We can try.”

“So what do we do now?” Castiel said.

“We go back to the room.”

“For what?”

“We can think about a honeymoon.”

“But we…” Castiel’s voice trailed off. “Never mind. It isn’t important.”

Dean ignored the statement. If Castiel didn’t want to tell him, then he trusted that it was for his own good. “Whatever.”

The both of them got into the car. Dean put his keys in the ignition. He was about to start the car when he turned to face Castiel. His angel. His… husband. “Cas.”

Castiel turned to look at him. As soon as they made eye contact, Dean leaned forward and kissed him.

Somewhere in the middle of the kiss, Dean felt another pull.

_Castiel laid under him, naked, his back arching as Dean sucked on his pulse point. His hands held Castiel’s wrists above his head, pinning him to the bed. “De… Dean,” Castiel moaned. His eyes fluttered closed._

_Dean moved from Castiel’s neck to his lips. “Sh…” Dean cooed, running his hand through Castiel’s sweat drenched hair. His other hand, the one with his wedding band, ran up and down Castiel’s side, his thumb tracing each rib. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, Mr. Castiel Winchester.” He smiled as he went back to kissing his husband._

Dean jerked away and stared at Castiel. “No way.” Castiel looked away from Dean and he could swear that he saw a blush creeping up Castiel’s cheeks. Dean smirked and shook his head. “No way.”

The end

Or the beginning?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally posted for Secret Angels III at the deancastiel community on live journal.
> 
> Cleaned it up a bit since then.


End file.
